Page 20 of Witchsea

There he goes, smashing the bridge to pieces. “I want my bag back.”

“I took the gold as payment for your time on my ship. The clothes? You can have those back once they are washed.” I see red. I rush to grab one of the books by the door, and when I turn, he is there.

He grabs the book out of my hand, a warning in his eyes. “I’m done being nice. Don’t throw my books, mortal.” I take several steps back, but he follows me. “And if you run? If you try that shit again, I’m going to turn this boat around. I’m going to go to the Stilts and I’m going to set every inch of it on fire. Fuck the king. Fuck whoever you’ve got there that you care about. They’ll be dead.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I hiss.

“You have no fucking idea what I would dare, what is at stake here for me.” He steps closer. “Stop pushing me, Map.”

I push at his chest. “Is this what you call playing nice?”

“Yes.” He pushes his body, his entire body straight into mine, and the air stills in my chest. He grabs my hands and pins them above my head, my pulse dancing beneath his touch. We glare at each other, even as my body responds to him, as heat pours into my core, and I want more. I want him. The shock of that feeling leaves me silent. I don’t fight him. “Half the time, I can’t tell whether I want to kill you or kiss you. You are driving me insane.”

“You won’t be able to do either,” I challenge. Ren leans into me and I freeze. If he kisses me…I’ll kiss him back and hate myself for it. I’d enjoy every second and still, deep down, know it can’t be him.

There are two sharp knocks that interrupt us, and I’m glad for it because Ren lets me go. I quickly take several steps away from him, needing the distance. I feel him watching for a moment before he slides the door open with a bark. “What the fuck do you want?”

Chaos stands on the other side of the door, looking between us with nothing but contempt for me in his eyes. At least I don’t have to guess how he feels about me. “There’s trouble on deck. You need to come. There’s a stowaway that knows Miriam, and he is asking to see her.”

Chapter

Ten

“Who is it?” Ren commands, his eyes roaming my face. I guess we are both pretending he didn’t almost kiss me.

“I do not know,” I answer truthfully, because I really don’t. Odessa is the only person I know from Havenward, and she wouldn’t have followed me on board here. I don’t have other friends, and Odessa isn’t someone I would consider a friend, anyway. Ren must believe the confusion on my face because he doesn’t ask any more questions, choosing to walk out with Chaos. I run after them because they walk damn fast with their huge legs.

When we pass the rooms, Freckles rushes to my side, wearing tight leggings and a matching black top covered in sweat. She must have been working out. “You didn’t say goodbye.”

My shoulders drop as I look at her and the hurt in her eyes. “None of this”—I gesture to the ship around us—“was part of my plan if I got the map. I just…” I don’t know how to explain it to her. This entire ship is getting to me, and I don’t know what to make of it. I’ve never left home until now, and I’ve been nothing but pushed to my limits by everyone on this ship. “I am sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

“Maybe you should consider that you might have landed on this ship because the gods wanted you here. We are on the same side.” Freckles stops at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the pouring rain, and shouts, “I haven’t called anyone new a friend in a long time, Miriam. I get why you left, but I don’t want to see you die. You will, at this rate. The king wants you. He is the most dangerous man to walk this world…and you’re on the ship with the second most dangerous man. One of them has promised you safety, and one wants you dead. Please consider where you want to be with that map on your body.”

The shouting is louder up the stairs leading to the deck, only muffled by the heavy rain as Freckles walks away, leaving me with a feeling I don’t like. She is disappointed in me. I don’t like how much I care about her disappointment, how I think of her as a friend, too. I turn and go up the steps, to the top where Chaos is blocking the view of whoever is here. But I know that voice.

“Wait! I want to speak to Miriam before you throw me off the ship to my certain death!”

I step around Chaos, my eyes widening as I see Wyatt. Wyatt Stone is on the ship…and I can’t understand for a second why he is here. How he is here. Ren is in front of him, his head turned to look at me, while Tracker is right behind Wyatt, holding a dagger to his neck. The dagger I stabbed that man with. Wyatt looks just like he always does, blond-haired and pretty, in light brown trousers and a loose white shirt that is damp, sticking to his toned chest and nearly see-through. At one point, I would have liked that view, but right now, I feel nothing.

“Miriam.” His shoulders drop when he sees me, a grin plastered on his face. “Miry, tell your new friends to let me go, would you?”

“Wyatt, what in Noctaris’s name are you doing on this ship?!” I hiss, closing the space between me and the group, stopping at Ren’s side. “Tell me I’m imagining you here and I’m going to wake up.”

“Throw him into the sea.” Ren’s clipped voice is like a knife cutting through the rain and wind. An icy shiver goes right down my spine, and it cools my blood. Wait, no. I don’t always like Wyatt, mostly because he can be arrogant and an ass, but I don’t want him dead. I can’t watch him be chucked off the side of the ship when we are miles from land. He will die, and Ren is already turning to leave. Tracker begins to drag Wyatt to the left, to a plank hanging out of a cannon gap in the ship’s side.

I move in front of Draven, and he stops with clenched fists. In fact, he looks frustrated and stiff. “Don’t kill him.” I lower my voice. “Please, Ren.” He looks at me for a long moment, and he says nothing. He looks even more…mad. I risk turning to make sure Wyatt hasn’t already been chucked off the ship, but Tracker has stopped, waiting with a struggling Wyatt in his grip. Wyatt goes still when Tracker moves the dagger closer to his neck and nips his skin, fresh blood pouring down the blade. “How did you get on the ship and find me?”

“I spoke to Odessa, and—” Tracker looses the blade a little from his neck. “Odessa said I missed you there by a few minutes. She told me you were attacked in the alleyway, and I had to pay steeply for the information. It wasn’t hard to follow the line of bodies to him”—he waves a hand at Draven—“carrying you through the city. I thought he hurt you at first, but when he gently laid you in the boat and barked for a healer called Clark to be ready, I knew you’d found someone to keep you and the map safe.” Wyatt grins. “I swam to the ship, climbed up and hid in the rooms. Until I was found out by the big fellow.”

“I would have heard you right away if it weren’t for the storms,” Chaos grumbles. “Can we kill him now?”

“No!” I snap at Chaos, who ignores me altogether to focus on Ren, waiting for his choice. Draven is still silent, his body tense, and there is a dangerous glint in his eyes as he watches us all. Assessing us all.

“You want him alive?” he questions, his voice a low rumble. “Then he is alive as long as you sleep in my bed without complaint and you don’t run again.”

I grit my teeth. Fucking Wyatt. “Fine.”

“Deal?” He offers me a smirk.